


though our trails are marked by sorrow

by liketheroad



Series: when we go, how we go [2]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Curtain Fic, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Possessive Behavior, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:50:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketheroad/pseuds/liketheroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aggressively fluffy epilogue to 'Rust inside our very marrow.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	though our trails are marked by sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Again, suuuper fictional, based entirely on the TV show and my own heartbreak regarding the canon ending. 
> 
> Alternate summary: Picnics and shit.

While thoughts of home sustained most of the men he fought alongside, Eugene never spared much energy picturing it. He put thoughts of home out of his mind within hours of arrival in country, or more accurately, meeting Shelton did. 

One meeting and he had a new home, a new geographical center – wherever Shelton was. Getting home didn’t matter unless Shelton was alive and able to return with him, and for all those months, it was that goal that sustained him. 

Now, the reality of being home is much like he could have predicted, if he’d bothered to give it more than a fleeting moment’s thought. His mother was ecstatic upon his return, fawning over him and weeping openly, but this jubilation doesn’t last long. Shelton is stubbornly convinced he is the reason, but Eugene knows better.

Soulbonds run in his mother’s family, stretching back for generations, long before they first came to these shores. She may not like the cold-eyed stranger Eugene has brought home, but she accepts it, knowing from her own experience that when the bond is there, there is no one who can break it. And so, she regards Shelton with a weary kind of resignation, knowing there is nothing she can do about him. 

It’s Eugene she wishes were different, Eugene she can barely stand to look at. 

He knows she hoped for different for him than Shelton, stubbornly convinced that when he finally brought his soulmate home, they would be respectable, Baptist, and most of all, female. Still, she’s always known his preferences, and Eugene knows her problems with Shelton stem from how Eugene himself behaves around him more than anything else. 

His brother is equally disappointed with both Shelton and who Eugene has become in his company, but is too proper to say so.

Sid doesn’t exactly approve of Eugene’s choice either, but he understands. Not about the soulbond, so much, but the fact that Shelton is a marine, respectful of the kind of lasting bonds that can be formed in combat.

For his part, Eugene’s father welcomes Shelton with open arms, accepting him into his home and his family. He might not understand it, but he takes Eugene at his word that Shelton is who and what he wants, considering that and everything else Eugene desires as his due. 

\---

Although he knows his mother disapproves of he and Shelton sharing a bed before they’re married, or perhaps at all, his parents quickly learn that it’s the only way avoid the entire household being awoken nightly by his screams. Their grudging agreement only gets Eugene so far, however, because Shelton is endlessly skittish within Eugene’s family home, deferential and shy in a way Eugene thinks he’ll never get used to.

If Shelton didn’t also circle him obsessively, never straying more than a foot from Eugene’s side in those early weeks after returning to Mobile, Eugene almost wouldn’t recognize him. But whatever performance Shelton feels compelled to put on in front of Eugene’s parents and their household staff doesn’t extend to how he treats Eugene, especially in private, and so Eugene does everything he can to ensure they’re alone, which would be his preference anyhow.

The real trouble, from Eugene’s perspective, is that it’s next to impossible to get Shelton to make love to him in his parents’ house. He can be coaxed into it with enough effort, but Eugene is unsure in the role of seducer that has been thrust upon him by Shelton’s sudden preciousness, and even then, Shelton will never let Eugene touch _him_. Instead, he’ll hold Eugene down with one hand and bring him off with the other to greet a day, or ease Eugene to sleep by sucking him off, long and lazy, and then flatly refuse to let Eugene return the favour.

It’s maddening, and the unfairness of it on both sides smarts, but luckily, Shelton is not entirely without self-interest, and soon takes to leading Eugene on long expeditions to the far edges of town to strip him bare and devour him in the warm summer air. 

Ants are a bit of a problem on occasion, but on the positive side, in the increasingly remote and secluded spots Shelton drags them out to, he and Shelton can be as loud as they like. 

This particular time, they’re lying naked in the grass, mostly hidden by surrounding trees, trying to see which of them can bring the other off first using only their hands and mouth. It’s a competition Eugene is embarrassed to admit he typically loses, although he spares some pride for the fact that watching him ride out his orgasm is usually what brings on Shelton’s own.

Today is no exception, and once they’re both spent and at least half dressed again, Shelton wipes his mouth with the back of his arm and grumbles, “Coulda been having that for months if you’da unscrewed your knees long enough to let me convince you the fun way.”

It’s not the first time Shelton has harped on this particular point, but never so seriously that it has Eugene worried, so he snorts and says, “With the noise you make? The Japs would have been on us in a heartbeat.”

“Fuck you, Eugene,” Shelton says, but he’s grinning.

“Sure, if you can still manage to do a decent job of it,” Eugene taunts, wanting to rile Shelton up and struggling to hide his delight when it works so easily.

Shelton shoves him back down to the grass on his stomach and slaps Eugene’s ass, saying, “Don’t know why you bothered,” giving the pants Eugene put back on moments before a disdainful tug. 

“What, I’m supposed to make it easy for you now all of a sudden?” Eugene asks, shaking his hips a little, ass up in the air.

Shelton swats him again.

“That’ll be the fuckin’ day,” Shelton says, but his voice is warm and possessive, and from the eager way he gets to work stripping off Eugene’s pants and prepping him with the slick he must have remembered to bring, Eugene figures Shelton must like him just the way he is, hard work and all.

\---

“When did you know, hmm?” Shelton asks, a few days later.

Eugene is distantly surprised it’s taken him this long, but then, they had other things on their minds, before. He takes his time, thinking over his answer and fiddling with his pipe, refilling it carefully after checking its component parts, cleaning what was needed away.

He takes too long, and Shelton turns over onto his side, his head still pillowed on Eugene’s lap. They’re out on the edge of his family’s property, the shade of the willow tree Eugene is resting against protecting them from the worst of the afternoon’s heat. 

Comfortably situated once more, Shelton bites down on the exposed skin of Eugene’s left thigh and says, “Love at first fuckin’ sight, huh?”

Eugene laughs. “The first time I saw you, I was terrified.”

Shelton goes still in his lap, holding in a breath, and then rolls onto his back, looking up at Eugene.

“Me too.” He reaches up at that and Eugene offers him his hand, still holding onto his pipe with the other, not yet lit. 

“I was mainly concerned about concealing the most poorly timed erection I’d ever had in my entire life, you?” Eugene asks, half serious but still hoping to relieve some of the tension now drawn at the corners of Shelton’s face. 

It works well enough, pulling a surprised laugh from deep in Shelton’s belly. He beams at Eugene, so proud of him whenever he says something approaching dirty, and Eugene shakes his head. Everything he does is a delight to Shelton and while he appreciates that dearly, he sometimes worries that Shelton’s adoration makes him complacent. The fact that Shelton is a sure thing is no reason to take him for granted, to treat him anything less than like gold. 

During the war he’d been forever striving to push Shelton to the edges of his attention, relying on the background awareness of the bond to alert him to any pressing need or danger. Back then, he could hardly bear to look at Shelton, he wanted him so much. He tried to avoid even touching Shelton, terrified that if he reached out to him, whether in tenderness or passion, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and it would be the end of them both.

He has no such need for restraint now. 

Those thoughts prompt him to tug Shelton’s hand closer, kissing his knuckles one by one and then finishing with a lingering kiss pressed to the first scar he ever intentionally put on Shelton’s body, as has become their custom. 

“Don’t go soft on me now,” Shelton complains, pulling away, although not, Eugene notes, until the task is done. “What else?”

Eugene lights his pipe and inhales, stalling but not concealing that fact. Shelton knows all his routines, his little tricks and habits, inside and out. 

“I’ll admit I wasn’t as quick as you. I was too busy gaping at you to realize why, at first. Just knew I wanted you, wanted to impress you so much I almost felt sick. Things went on like that for a while, and you kept so close I didn’t have occasion to notice the wrongness of your absence. I didn’t properly understand until the airfield, when I knew you’d fallen before I even looked back, although it didn’t really matter. I was long gone on you by then anyhow.” He chuckles to himself, the arrogance he’d shown, the extent of which is baffling to him now, that confidence he carried in those early days of war. “You were gonna be mine, soulmate or no.”

This pleases Shelton, however, as signs of Eugene’s pridefulness always seem to do.

“That’s why you were always so sweet to me, then,” he says, his tone too full of liquid-honey to make the words sound properly sarcastic.

“You didn’t want sweet,” Eugene says confidently, knowing that for certain. “And neither did I.”

Shelton smiles up at him, softer this time, and then his expression changes on a dime, sharp and seductive, and he says, “Still don’t,” before yanking Eugene down by the collar, knocking Eugene’s pipe out of his mouth and replacing it with his own. 

\---

Without him hardly noticing at first, Shelton quickly befriends everyone on their household staff, to the point where Eugene will have to go looking for him sometimes, hunting the house floor by floor only to find Shelton leaning against one of the kitchen counters more often than not, yammering on in French with their cook, Lucille. 

He could use his superpower, as Shelton insists on calling it, but outside of the necessity of war, it feels wrong to exploit the bond like that. Shelton has a right to a measure of privacy. Doesn’t stop Eugene from looking for him, mind.

If Shelton could dependably be found in the kitchen, of course, that would be one thing. Simple enough. But things with Shelton are never simple, and so Eugene spends a fair degree of his newfound freedom searching the rooms and grounds of his childhood home for his elusive soulmate. 

The kitchen is the most likely place, but sometimes Shelton can be found in the gardens, trimming the hedges or weeding and watering Eugene’s mother’s roses. 

Another time, Eugene finds him at the far edge of their property, helping their groundskeeper mend the back fence. 

The strangest and most recent time, Eugene walks into the powder room to find Shelton listening attentively to their housekeeper Rose, who is offering a detailed explanation of the exact ratio of vinegar to water that will clean windows and mirrors streak free. 

Usually, when Eugene finally locates Shelton he simply smiles at Eugene and acts like it’s perfectly normal for him to be caught with flour in his hair and an apron across his waist or elbow deep in freshly tilled earth, but this time he jumps guiltily, and doesn’t hide the relief on his face well at all when Rose shoos them both out of the room, sternly ordering them to leave her be so she can work.

Eugene must not hop to fast enough for Shelton’s liking, because he grabs Eugene’s elbow and starts dragging him down the hall, away from the confusing scene Eugene walked in on. 

“What was that about?” Eugene asks, trying to shake him off, but Shelton is stubborn and, he discovers, much stronger than Eugene himself, at least these days.

“Nothin’, Gene,” he answers, and Eugene shuts up.

He knows that look well, and months of experience in country have taught him not to push Shelton when his jaw is set that tight, his eyes that dark. Whatever it is, Shelton will tell him when he’s ready, and until that time, Eugene resolves to be patient, trusting Shelton more than enough to allow him to keep his own secrets.

\---

Despite his father playing interference, Eugene’s mother successfully nags him into driving down to Alabama Polytechnic to see about enrolling in some university courses, and he attempts to nag Shelton into coming with him.

The morning he’s set to go, Eugene buttons up his freshly pressed shirt and straightens his tie in front of the mirror while Shelton lounges half-dressed on their bed, having neither showered or shaved as Eugene had requested.

“Are you comin’ or not,” Eugene says, exasperated, patting down his pleated pants, searching for his lighter, not wanting to leave the house without it.

Shelton clucks at him, tossing him the lighter from where Eugene must have left it on his bedside table, and says, “Never said I would, Eugene.”

Eugene sighs. Technically, that’s true, but, “Well I was hopin’ you’d have changed your mind.”

Shelton stares up at him, long and unblinking, and then says definitively, “No.”

Eugene wants to demand a better explanation, or simply to pout at Shelton until he agrees to come along, but even though he knows that’d probably work eventually, he doesn’t truly wish to make Shelton do something against his own will. Besides that, he knows the differences in their upbringings, the wealth and education gaps between them, are a sore spot for Shelton, best not aggravated any more than can be helped.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Shelton assures, and he must really be set against the entire enterprise if he isn’t even offering to go with Eugene to keep him company, especially to ward off the bad feelings and lightheadedness Eugene experiences in his absence. 

“Alright,” Eugene says, reluctant but surrendering all the same.

Shelton kisses him, deep and a little desperate when he walks Eugene as far as the front door, and doesn’t rub it in at all when Eugene returns that evening in a foul mood, fuming about what a complete waste of time it was showing up there. He simply takes hold of Eugene’s hand, tugging him inside their bedroom, silent as Eugene angrily yanks off his tie, declaring that all civilians are clueless anyhow, and he doesn’t know how he could stand being in a classroom full of them. 

Instead of pointing out that he’d made these and other excellent points himself many times over when Eugene first suggested the idea of them both signing up for classes together, Shelton just pulls him back to bed, undressing Eugene the rest of the way and kicking off his own pants, lying down at his side and simply holding on, silent and yet affirming, all the same.

\---

Upon the collective insistence of his mother, Sid, and his brother, they go to the damn OOM Ball, Shelton fully decked out in his dress blues, Eugene not.

They stand at the sidelines, shoulders together, both trying to hide behind a particularly large and opulent floral arrangement. Despite the matching glares on their faces, they’re approached many times by busty, beaming women, although they mostly come for Shelton. As his brother and Sid predicted, without his dress blues, Eugene melts into the background. 

He prefers it that way, although he understands why Shelton dressed the part, proud as a peacock to stand at Eugene’s side in full regalia and all but hiss at those who dare approach him. 

Once, a handsome but nervous-looking man comes to ask Eugene to dance, not a fellow marine or even soldier, and even more strangely, not someone he recognizes from a lifetime in Mobile. 

Shelton says, “No,” flashing his teeth before Eugene can even open his mouth, a dangerous edge to his voice. 

The stranger doesn’t push his luck, withdrawing quickly with an apologetic nod. 

Sid must catch the show, because he comes over, laughing. 

He mistakes the redness of Eugene’s cheeks for embarrassment instead of amusement, and throws a commiserating arm around Eugene’s shoulders. “No need to be shy, Gene, I’m sure Shelton wouldn’t mind you taking a few spins around the ballroom with your adoring public, maybe even loosen you up a bit.”

Shelton snorts and unceremoniously displaces the arm Sid had around his shoulders with his own. 

Sid coughs and says, “Alright,” mostly to himself, parting their company with a lopsided smile only for Eugene. 

When they’re alone again, Eugene crosses his arms and huffs, “Why is it everyone around me assumes I’m some kind of blushing innocent?”

“Wishful thinkin’,” Shelton says simply.

Eugene raises his eyebrows, not getting Shelton’s meaning.

Shelton smiles, slow and sly and above all, endlessly smug, saying, “Anyone with a lick of sense who meets you is bound to hope they’ll be the son-of-a-bitch lucky enough to have the privilege of ruinin’ that pretty mouth of yours for the first time.” 

As he says this, Shelton stands closer to Eugene and swipes his thumb across Eugene’s bottom lip, dragging it along with him a little once he reaches the left side, pulling it away from the gum and exposing teeth. “Can hardly blame ‘em for that, Gene.”

Blushing despite himself, Eugene swats Shelton’s hand away and says, “Well maybe not, but I hardly think that’s Sid’s problem.”

“How would you know?” Shelton asks, a frown starting to build in his eyebrows. “Ever asked him?”

“No,” Eugene says, rolling his eyes slightly, “but he’s getting married,” he waves in the general direction of where Sid and Mary can be seen dancing together. “To the prettiest girl in town!”

“Don’t mean she was his first choice,” Shelton says, shrugging testily. “Prettiest boy in town was already taken.”

“Very taken,” Eugene stammers hastily, grabbing for Shelton’s hand, finally realizing what this has likely been about from the beginning for him.

Shelton stubbornly continues on glaring, clutching his hand tightly, but as soon as Eugene looks away, he can see Shelton start to smile out the corner of his eye. 

\---

Dinner at home is always a strained affair these days, and while Eugene knows Shelton feels the weight of responsibility for this keenly, Eugene isn’t sure it’d be any better if he wasn’t there. Eugene himself would still have returned home changed, and the place at the table and within his family he once fit into seamlessly would likely be just as ill-fitting and stifling, even without Shelton there to add substance and prominence to the change. 

Tonight, the talk around the dinner table has been polite if obviously stilted. Eugene’s father waits until dinner has been cleared away and dessert has not yet been served to excuse himself briefly, returning with a long, elegantly wrapped package he hands to Eugene with a twinkling smile. 

Eugene says, “Thank you, father,” a little blankly, taking the present and glancing at Shelton for reassurance before carefully removing the fine, thick golden paper. 

Underneath is a gorgeously crafted hunting rifle, and Eugene’s hands spasm, pulling back sharply, his vision blurring. He feels a rush of air fill his eardrums, like he’s been overtaken by a sudden, strong gust of wind. 

His father is speaking, proudly describing the special order he put in for the new gun, suggesting that he and Eugene can test it out on some doves tomorrow if the good weather holds. Eugene swallows over and over, trying to get a grip on himself, trying to speak.

He can’t bear the thought of disappointing his father, denying him this, but he equally can’t imagine ever voluntarily picking up a gun again, let alone using it for sport.

His father is still talking, apparently not noticing the state Eugene is in, head spinning, spinning.

“Think he’s lost his taste for it,” Shelton abruptly cuts in, a little too loud, his voice penetrating the fog Eugene’s head has been swimming in since unwrapping the gun.

“What was that, Merriell?” his father asks, turning away from Eugene and pushing his glasses back against the bridge of his nose, as surprised by Shelton’s interruption as Eugene was. 

It’s the first time he can recall Shelton ever speaking at the table, let alone interrupting Eugene’s father to do so.

“Killing,” Shelton says bluntly, eyes hard. “Sorta loses its charm, after what we’ve been through.”

His father inhales sharply, his expression turning instantly grave, and Eugene tenses immediately, ready to defend Shelton from any potential criticism either of his parents may have about the appropriateness of his dinner table conversation and tone, but then he notices his father’s face softening as he continues to look at Shelton, expression becoming almost grateful.

His mother’s face is pinched severely, he notices, but she bows her head and holds her tongue. 

His brother says, “I’ll go hunting with you, father,” his booming voice jarring and out of place.

It was never their tradition, going out into the wilderness together, and Shelton tisks at Edward for butting in, but Eugene is glad for the distraction. He’s even more grateful for the way his parents both turn away from him to smile at Edward, allowing him to grab Shelton’s hand under the table and squeeze it hard enough to leave impressions of his nails behind in Shelton’s palm. 

The topic of conversation soon moves on, turning the church bake sale his mother is helping to arrange this year, and Eugene’s father motions for Rose to remove the gun from the table while Eugene is still digging his nails into Shelton’s skin, trying to calm down. Shelton returns his grip in kind, and the topic of hunting is not brought up at the dinner table, or otherwise in Eugene’s presence, ever again.

\---

Several days later Shelton wakes him with a kiss and a rough hand-job before disappearing into the kitchen. He doesn’t emerge until mid-afternoon, when he announces they’re going on a picnic. Shelton slaps his hand away and glares when Eugene tries to help, insisting on carrying the picnic basket and blanket by himself. 

Once they’re situated in a nearby field of wildflowers, Shelton pulls out cucumber sandwiches, cold fried chicken, and a canteen full of freshly squeezed lemonade he proudly claims to have made himself. The chicken is spicy enough to burn and the lemonade is equally as tart, but Eugene prefers it that way. He wonders if Shelton asked Lucille about his preferences, or if he simply knows Eugene well enough to guess right.

After they’ve gorged themselves on chicken and sandwiches, Shelton produces two thick slices of chocolate cake wrapped carefully in wax paper from the bottom of the picnic basket, shyly admitting he made them too. 

The cake is rich and tastes intensely of chocolate, not just sugar like some do. Eugene eats his slowly, bewildered and mildly alarmed by the whole spread, the work and care that must have gone into it. 

He feels spoiled, and quickly realizes that must be the point, or at least one of them. It’s no secret Eugene’s been having trouble readjusting to the excesses of civilian life, and his mother shares her concerns about his lack of appetite with anyone willing to stay still long enough. Even given the tension that rules their interactions, it’s no real surprise Shelton is now conspiring with her to fatten Eugene up with his favourite foods, knowing he’ll never turn down a meal Shelton himself clearly worked so hard to prepare. 

When the cake is done they lie down together. Shelton rests his head in the hollow of Eugene’s stomach and Eugene folds one arm behind his head, using his other hand to card indulgently through Shelton’s hair. 

He nearly drifts to sleep, but eventually makes himself sit up, easing Shelton’s head down further onto his lap so he can still rest comfortably. 

He keeps his fingers tangled loosely in Shelton’s hair when he says, “Merriell,” voice soft and hesitant.

Shelton perks up immediately. He rises to a sitting position, flushing slightly, the same reaction he always has when Eugene uses his given name. 

Eugene takes a steadying breath and asks, “You do know I don’t actually expect you to stay home and keep house for me, don’t you?” As he says this, Eugene lets his eyes scan significantly over the remains of food and drink spread around them on the checkered picnic blanket. 

Shelton flinches away from him, rolling his eyes to cover. “Know you don’t _expect_ me to,” he says, stubborn expression clearly adding that he’s gonna to do it anyway.

Despite the difficulty of what he’s about to say, Eugene maintains eye-contact with Shelton when he begins, “Don’t you,” only to stop short as he grasps for a way of saying this without insult. “I don’t know. Want a career? Something for yourself?” Doing nothing might be Eugene’s plan for now, but not for always, and he wants more for Shelton, provided he wants the same for himself.

Some of the sourness on Shelton’s face lifts, and he says confidently, “Fuck that shit. I’ve had enough sweat and toil to last me a lifetime. If you’re fool enough to let me, I ain’t gonna do another paid day’s work from now ‘til the day I die.”

Eugene can hear the sincerity in his voice, the conviction, so he reaches for Shelton’s hand, kissing his knuckles and his scar one by one before saying, “You can do whatever you like.”

Shelton averts his gaze and doesn’t reply, but he nods jerkily and shoves Eugene gently back down onto the blanket, claiming his chest as a pillow once again.

Later, when Eugene is just starting to drift off for a second time, he feels Shelton sigh against him and he takes the hand Eugene has resting on his ribcage and kisses the back of it firmly before saying, “Gene,” voice hesitant but full of depth and meaning. 

Eugene smiles up at the sky, hearing clearly the promise and the love behind the way Shelton uses his name, each and every time, and closes his eyes, saying simply, “Yeah, me too.”


End file.
